


happiness, a kind of holiness

by ALovelyLitwit



Category: Roswell New Mexico (TV 2019)
Genre: Christmas fic if you squint, Fluffy, M/M, a conversation over coffee, reunion fic - kind of, set sometime during s3
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:15:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,068
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295151
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ALovelyLitwit/pseuds/ALovelyLitwit
Summary: Alex and Michael meet to discuss a new friend? A new foe? Or perhaps a new beginning.
Relationships: Michael Guerin/Alex Manes
Comments: 18
Kudos: 83





	happiness, a kind of holiness

**Author's Note:**

> I'll just post anything these days! Merry Christmas. Thanks for being so supportive this year. More SMH soon! <3

It’s Monday. Early. Christmas week. The sky is cloudy, gray. Casting gloomy shadows where the filtered morning sunlight doesn’t quite reach. Michael parks his truck, cuts off the engine, and tries to see past the holiday decorations obscuring the interior of the small coffee shop where he is meeting Alex for breakfast. It’s not a date. It’s not a date. Even if they are both single.

The door opens with the jingle jangle of sleigh bells, the warmth of the furnace immediately wraps around him. He scans each table quickly, spotting Alex in the back corner. His head buried in a Manila folder, brow furrowed as he reads what Michael hopes is good news concerning their new ex-military friend, Eduardo Ramos. 

Alex drags his eyes away from the papers in the folder at the sound of the bells. He smiles, full and bright, when he sees Michael. Waves. Moves to stand for some reason, but Michael shakes his head and points to the counter. Alex nods and returns his attention to the folder. 

There are a few people in front of him so Michael takes the opportunity to not at all discreetly observe Alex. They’ve spent a lot of time together recently but always surrounded by the rest of their friends as they plan to go on the offense against Jones. Other than a stolen word or two on the way to their cars, they haven’t had any real time to talk. 

Until this morning. 

Michael had called Alex to relay information for their next meeting at Kyle’s house and Alex had suggested this meetup. The two of them alone together for no real discernible reason. Michael had easily said yes and spent the next 12 hours talking himself out of believing this could in any way be construed as a date.

But seeing Alex now makes him realize he’s failed. Badly. Because he desperately needs this to be a date. And he convinces himself that’s what Alex wants too. That his maroon sweater and black leather jacket and perfectly fitted jeans aren’t on accident. Michael looks down at himself and tries to imagine what Alex sees. Certainly the expanse of exposed chest. The worn, frayed edges of his shirt, the oil stains on his jeans, the scuffs on his boots. But maybe also the way his fingers always flex at the sight of him, the way the pulse in his neck races, the way his eyes linger heavy and for far too long.

He orders a small black coffee and heads to Alex’s table, sliding into the chair opposite him and throwing his hat into the chair between them. ‘Good news or bad news?’

Alex pushes the folder across the table, spinning it around so that Michael can read the document. ‘Most of what he said checks out. He was discharged from the Army eight years ago, but he left out the part where it was a dishonorable discharge.’

Michael’s eyes narrow as he skims the information. ‘What’d he do?’

‘Not sure. That’s classified above my clearance, but give me a few extra days to keep digging.’ He sips at his coffee and flips to another page in the folder. ‘He’s been off the grid for two years. Hardly any digital footprint which suggests he’s been in hiding.’

‘That doesn’t sound good.’ 

‘I would advise extreme caution until we know more. There are dozens of stupid reasons people get dishonorably discharged, and he might just be paranoid. Happens to a lot of guys once they get out.’ His eyes dart back to the door, the bells jingling again.

‘Nothing you have any firsthand experience with.’ It’s meant as a joke, but Alex’s forehead wrinkles. ‘Which is earned considering the lives we lead.’

‘Nah, you’re right. I had all those cameras installed long before I understood anything about aliens and mass government conspiracies.’ Alex taps his fingers on the lid of his drink and his forehead wrinkles disappear. 

He smiles, lopsided. A fair amount of flirt implied. ‘I always just thought that was your very thorough way of screening guests. No riffraff allowed. Mainly, your dad.’

‘Well, then I hope you also noticed that you’ve always been welcome.’ Michael hates how much that makes his heart pound. How much hope that spreads warm throughout his chest. Forever and ever he’ll be this easy.

‘I did.’ He’d rarely had to ring the doorbell twice. Often not even at all.

Tension joins them at the table, shifting them in their seats as they readjust to the extra weight. Michael clears his throat. ‘Why did you invite me here this morning?’

Alex’s eyes fall to the folder like maybe the answer is in his carefully constructed research. ‘To warn you. Ask you to be careful with this guy.’

‘That’s why? Probably could have waited until tonight. When you could tell everyone to be careful at the same time.’ Michael leans forward, elbows on the table. Hands as close as he dares to Alex’s still wrapped around his coffee. 

Michael watches him battle himself for the right words. A decade’s worth of emotions working across his face, haunting his features. His words when they come are quiet, simple things. Certain. ‘I missed you.’

Closing the gap between them, Michael’s fingertips tap at Alex’s knuckles. ‘We’ve seen each other every day.’ 

‘I know. But there were always too many people in the way.’ He takes a shuddering breath and concentrates his gaze on where their fingers meet. ‘I guess what I mean is, I missed us. Just us. I’ve missed us for a long time now.’

Michael nods and sucks his bottom lip into his mouth, considering. ‘Has there ever really been an us? One that wasn’t a secret?’

Hurt flashes in Alex’s eyes, mouth immediately parting to bite out a response. But he stops. Takes another breath. Swallows. ‘No, not really. So maybe I missed what I wanted us to be.’

‘I missed that too. You wanted to be friends once. That’s what you said. And we never really got there.’ Their fingers twine together of their own accord. Very little thought playing into the touch.

‘I’d like to try that now. How about a standing coffee date every morning this week. As a start?’ He rubs his thumb lightly over Michael’s, face open and flush with possibility.

Michael pulls Alex’s hand to his lips. Presses a soft kiss. ‘As a start.’


End file.
